Last Words
by Min Daae
Summary: Nother musing fic ONESHOT, due to the vicious bunnies. Mylen, formerly Sheraine Caminelle of the White Ajah, contemplates her loss of self and her transformation into a good damane. Tuon comes into the story. R&R, if you please. Rating is v. safe.


My name is Sheraine Caminelle.

This is the last time I will write those words. As soon as I finish setting them down, this paper will burn. I am fighting a losing battle to hold to that name, to hold to myself, but this battle was lost the day I was collared.

I was Aes Sedai once. An Aes Sedai of the White Ajah. But to the Seanchan, I was only a _marath'damane, _and I have been leashed. I still remember the sound of the collar closing around my neck for the first time, the final click as the latches settled into place. Puzzlement warred with fear, and anger won out. I thrashed wildly, tugging at the collar, fingers flickering along it, searching for a catch. Sudden nausea bent me double. I retched horribly, and in that moment the woman who had closed the thing around my neck, the _sul'dam, _snapped on the bracelet that connected us. How I screamed at that first punishment!

I fought, at first. I screamed at the women who wore my bracelet, lashed out with fists and feet when they came to train me. I demanded that they let me go free. I tried bribes. I tried force. I tried fear. None made a difference, and always the punishments I received reduced me to tears. The woman who shared my cell – oh, they called it a room, but it was a cell – was Seanchan born, a good, proper, well behaved _damane. _She disgusted me. She dried my tears and tried to instruct me in proper behavior. I threw things at her more than once. Finally, I was moved to my own cell, alone, far from other _damane _who might learn from my bad influence. And I receive d a new name. Mylen. A name suitable for a dog. A name that was mine, no matter how I denied it. I wanted to cry. I had almost forgotten how.

I gave up on life. I curled up in a corner of that cell and waited to die. I didn't eat. I wouldn't respond to all their attempts to coax me out, not to companionship, sweets, enticements. They tried _sul'dam_ after _sul'dam. _Some were cruel, sending switches across my hips through the leash that connected us. Some were kind, coaxing, wheedling, talking to me as if we were girlhood friends. Through it all, I sat there, numb, responding to neither treatment and slowly wasting away, until they could spoon broth down my unresisting throat. Not that it helped, of course. I had no will to live.

And then she came, and her voice soothed, her hands were gentle. She looked no more than a girl, but grown women flinched away from her when she spoke despite her large liquid black eyes that would have spoiled the dignity in any other. She allowed me to call her Tuon, for a time, and when I began calling her "Lady" and myself "Mylen," the change was so gradual, so subtle, that I hardly even realized that I had. I tried to refuse food, at first, but Tuon looked so offended and sad that I could not just turn away. I was alive, if leashed, and I owed it to her.

I don't know when our relationship converted from friends to servant and mistress, _damane _and _sul'dam_, only that it did. I was allowed to share rooms with newly caught _damane_to help them learn to be good dogs. Good _damane. _Just like Mylen, the _sul'dam _said. It was forgotten, or forgiven, that I had once been more difficult than any other new to the leash. I was a good _damane _now. A servant of the empire, one of the Daughter of the Nine Moons special six. I adored her. I pined when I did not see her, rejoiced when she praised me. I disgusted myself.

Today I woke and realized that I had forgotten my name, was forgetting that I had a true name other than Mylen. That scared me. I sat on my bed for a long time, struggling to remember. When I remembered it at last, I burned in into my mind, forcing myself to remember. But I wondered. _Next time, will I remember? Or will there be only Mylen, a faithful _damane _for the Empire? _And I had no doubts about which was the answer.

I was Sheraine Caminelle, an Aes Sedai of the White Ajah.

I am Mylen, a faithful _damane _for the Seanchan. I am Mylen, a leashed, obedient dog.

Sheraine Caminell of the White Ajah is dead.

Sincerely,

Mylen.


End file.
